The Coming of Merlin
by thefaultin0urfandom
Summary: Morgana has come back with disastrous consequences. She has joined up with Voldemort. So Merlin has to go to school. Will he and Harry find friendship? Will Morgana be defeated? And who's that showing up from Merlin's past? Freylin, slight Romione
1. Prologue

**Hey! This is my first story! Someone reported this story before but all I had written was 'Story to come...' so I understand.**

**Thanks to callmepie and prety for reviewing!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

'Forlætan Morgana beon cwic, forlætan Morgana beon cwic, forlætan Morgana beon cwic!'

Voldemort standing in front of a stone table chanting the words: "Let Morgana be alive," as he ran a knife along his hands, letting the blood drip into a bowl below. His wand was out, emitting an ongoing dark light.

Suddenly, Voldemort heard a piercing scream coming from the bowl. A dark swirling mist rose up. It formed a shadowy shape, and then solidified into a beautiful woman.

Morgana smiled, an evil smile that made Voldemort drop to the ground in a kneel.

She was on the Isle of the Blessed. The ruins of the castle had weathered even more down since she had last come. Now it was just rubble on the ground. But life had bloomed. In Uther's reign, the castle had been burned to the ground, and the land with it. The magic was still noticeable, but had faded significantly. She shook her head. Voldemort was still kneeling, his red eyes burning with reverence and a little resentment. Of course. He had met a person more powerful than him and had to kneel in front of her. But that was what Morgana deserved.

Morgana looked at the unattractive man in distaste. But, she sensed the power radiating from the man - certainly not at powerful as her, but enough to gain her respect. But, his magic was a deformed version of the pure, wonderful magic that the Old Religion had been.

Her eyes narrowed. She could put up with him. But he would eventually be killed.

"My lady," Voldemort drivelled. "It is so wonderful to see you in person!"

Morgana scoffed. Her spirit had been invading the foolish wizard's dreams, teaching him the necessary magic to bring her back to life. She had been patient. If she could wait 2,000 years for someone stupid enough to agree to her plans, she could wait a few more years.

She remembered who had sent her to the afterlife in the first place. Merlin. Oh, Merlin. He was such a thorn in her side. He had thwarted her at every turn, and when she finally found out his true nature, he had defeated her. With a sword. At least Mordred had been able to kill Arthur.

She thought of that pesky Merlin again, the immortal Merlin, the _revered_ Merlin, the oh so powerful Merlin. She was going to stop him once and for all. And she had an army of wizards by her side.

"My lady," Voldemort whispered. "What shall you have me do?"

She smirked. "We shall bring the Wizarding World down to its feet. And with it, my mortal enemy, _Merlin._

Merlin woke up with a start. Morgana had invaded his dreams again, after so long. He closed his eyes. So. She was back. To be honest, he had expected someone to raise her up far earlier that this, at the end of the 20th Century. And the person who had raised her was the Dark Lord, Voldemort. He was no match for Merlin, but he had killed dozens. Merlin had tried to stop him, but the Old Religion had held him back. 'It's not time. The Potter boy must make the journey on his own,' the Triple Goddess had whispered.

And now the boy was 15. He was going to set off to school in a few days, and Merlin was sure that Voldemort and Morgana would want to attack at the school. It would mean more kills. Merlin had been watching Harry's life in interest. He had survived the killing curse by his mother's love, and that luck had stayed with him throughout the years. He had always evaded his enemies, sometimes only by a hair. But now, if Morgana and Voldemort teamed up... he wouldn't stand a chance. Merlin had to protect him.

Merlin had to go to school.

**Finished! Please review.**


	2. Chapter 1 - The Meeting of Merlin

**I am soo sorry for posting so late! Extraong chapter to make up for it? I know I copied lots from the books.**

**dosclaimer: I don't own anything, except the plot. Some parts of the sorry are not mine. **

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was sucking a Sherbet Lemon. It was almost the start of the school year, and he was having a break. A well deserved break, he thought. A break that was interrupted by a flash of light over by the fireplace.

Dumbledore sighed. His break would have to be postponed. But he couldn't help feeling a little curious as to what the flash of light was. He picked up a letter that was sitting in the ashes. His name was written in a cursive font, and the parchment was thick and creamy. He opened the letter.

"Dear Professor Dumbledore," it said.

"I apologise for sending this letter so late, but I wish to join your prestigious school. I have received magical training; however now my tutor has sadly deceased. I would like to attend the school to complete my studies. I am aware that I have not joined in the first year, but as I said before, I do know magic. I understand if you can't accept me on such short notice, but I would be deeply obliged if you would.

Thank you,

Michael Emrys."

Dumbledore say back in his chair. There was no doubting it: the boy was certainly well-spoken. He had somehow gained a little of Dumbledore's trust with only one letter. He would, of course, have to make Michael do some tests to prove himself, but a little part of Dumbledore knew that the boy had already earned himself a place at the school. He didn't know why, but there was something deep inside his soul that explicitly trusted this 'Michael Emrys.'

Merlin stepped through the archway that led into Diagon Alley. He had recieved a letter from the Headmaster very promptly saying that 'Michael' could come to Hogwarts, but only if he could prove his magical ability. Merlin had been to Hogwarts several times before, so he knew what was expected of Fourth Years going into Fifth Year. He had decided that he would make the common mistakes and do the average amount of correct answers to get himself into Harry Potter's year.

Merlin completed his tests, making himself looking around 15 years old, and a day later Dumbledore sent him a letter saying that he could join the fifth years as 'Michael's' standard was the kind of standard that he would expect from fifth years. He had also enclosed a equipment list.

Diagon Alley was bustling with families doing early school shopping. Merlin couldn't see the Weasleys (or Harry Potter) but he guessed that was because Voldemort was on the loose. He bought the set books and had his robes measured. His wand - one he had made himself with one of Aithusa's scales - was safely tucked in his pocket.

"Shall we go and find a compartment, then?" Harry asked

Ron and Hermione exchanged looks.

"Er," said Ron.

"We're - well - Ron and I are supposed to go into the prefect carnage," Hermione said awkwardly.

Ron wasn't looking at Harry; he seemed to have become intensely interested in the fingernails on his left hand.

"Oh," said Harry. "Right. Fine."

"I don't think we'll have to stay there all journey," said Hermione quickly. "Our letters said we just get instructions from the Head Boy and Girl and then patrol the corridors from time to time."

"Fine," said Harry again. "Well, I - I might see you later, then."

"Yeah, definitely," said Ron, casting a shifty, anxious look at Harry. "It's a pain having to go down there, I'd rather - but we have to - I mean, I'm not enjoying it, I'm not Percy," he finished defiantly.

"I know you're not," said Harry and he grinned. But as Hermione and Ron dragged their trunks, Crookshanks and a caged Pigwidgeon off towards the engine end of the train, Harry felt an odd sense of loss. He had never travelled on the Hogwarts Express without Ron.

"Come on," Ginny told him, "if we get a move on we'll be able to save them places."

"Right," said Harry, picking up Hedwig's cage in one hand and the handle of his trunk in the other. They struggled off down the corridor, peering through the glass-panelled doors into the compartments they passed, which were already full. Harry could not help noticing that a lot of people stared back at him with great interest and that several of them nudged their neighbours and pointed him out. After he had met this behaviour in five consecutive carriages he remembered that the Daily Prophet had been telling its readers all summer what a lying show-off he was. He wondered dully whether the people now staring and whispering believed the stories.

Finally they found a carriage with only one person occupying it. He seemed to be staring off into space, twirling a wand around with his fingers.

"Um," said Harry. He wondered who the boy was. He hadn't seen him around Hogwarts before and he looked a little too old to be a first year. The boy had messy black hair, not unlike his own and bright blue eyes. His cheekbones were prominent on his face. Harry thought that Mrs Weasley, if she ever saw the boy, would want to fatten him up. "Can we share the compartment with you?"

The boy broke from his reverie with a jolt. He looked closely at the pair and narrowed his eyes. Finally, he said, "Sure. I'm new here so it'll be good to meet some people before we get to the school."

Ginny and Harry cautiously walked in. Harry sat down opposite the mysterious boy and Ginny sat next to him. "So." Harry tried to start a conversation. "What's your name?"

"My name is Michael Emrys," he said. "And you?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "You don't know who he is?" Harry stared at Michael in wonder. This must be some kind of joke.

"No..." Michael frowned. "Are you famous or something?"

"I'm Harry Potter!" said Harry. "Oh, and that's Ginny Weasley. I'm in fifth year, she's in fourth."

"Oh, the Boy Who Lived." Michael nodded. "You're in the papers quite a lot."

"Oh, so I guess you don't believe me," mumbled Harry miserably.

"No, of course I believe you!" Michael exclaimed. "I don't think a fourteen year old boy could kill someone." Harry nodded gratefully.

An awkward silence filled the room.

Michael reached into his bag and pulled out a large book. It was worn at the ends and was bound in a cracked leather. As he opened the book to read, Harry caught a glimpse of the front cover. It was written in an old language, the gold lettering spelling out words unknown to him. Michael must have been fluent in the language as he was flicking through the pages at ease.

Ginny and Harry, after sitting so silently that you could've heard a pin drop, finally heard the food trolley coming down the aisle. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He wouldn't have been able to bear the silence much longer.

"Anything off the trolley dears?" the lady asked.

Harry and Ginny bought whatever they could and Michael bought a couple of chocolate frogs. Harry and Ginny began trading the frog cards, and Michael went back to his book, biting off the frog's head thoughtfullyl

Harry looked at his card. It had a picture of an old man, his blue eyes staring at him, as if reading his soul. Harry could've mistaken him for Dumbledore himself, if it wasn't for the fact that the name Merlin was written below the portrait. The card read: "Medieval, dates unknown. Most famous wizard of all time. Sometimes known as the Prince of Enchanters. Part of the Court of King Arthur."

"Oh, I got Merlin," said Harry. "I've already got one of him."

"Merlin?" said Michael with a funny look on his face.

"Yeah, on the Chocolate Frog card." Harry looked at Ginny. "Who've you got?"

Ginny was just opening her packet. "Um... It's Morgana! That's ironic."

Michael leaned forward. "Can I see that card?" Ginny gave him a strange look but handed it over all the same.

Harry knew what it said: "Also known as Morgan le Fay, Morgana was a Dark sorceress who was King Arthur's half sister and an enemy of Merlin."

Michael, after reading it closed his eyes, and looked as if he had eaten a vomit flavoured Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean. He all but chucked it at Ginny and went back to his book.

Ginny and Harry exchanged looks but carried on eating their food.

Ron and Hermione did not turn up for nearly an hour. They walked in, accompanied by Crookshanks and a shrilly hooting Pigwidgeon in his cage.

"I'm starving,' said Ron, stowing Pigwidgeon next to Hedwig, grabbing a Chocolate Frog from Harry and throwing himself into the seat next to him. He ripped open the wrapper, bit off the frog's head and leaned back with his eyes closed as though he had had a very exhausting morning.

Hermione stood in the doorway looking at Michael. "Who are you?" she asked.

Ron turned to look at Michael. "Oh I didn't see you there."

Michael smiled and extended his hand. "My name is Michael Emrys. And you are?"

"I'm Hermione, and that pig is Ron," Hermione replied, wrinkling her nose. Ron rolled his eyes.

Hermione turned her attention back to Harry and Ginny. "Well, there are two fifth-year prefects from each house," said Hermione, looking thoroughly disgruntled as she took her seat. "Boy and girl from each."

"And guess who's a Slytherin prefect?" said Ron, still with his eyes closed.

"Malfoy," replied Harry at once, certain his worst fear would be confirmed.

"Course," said Ron bitterly, stuffing the rest of the Frog into his mouth and taking another.

"And that complete cow Pansy Parkinson," said Hermione viciously.

"How she got to be a prefect when she's thicker than a concussed troll..."

"Who are Hufflepuff's?" Harry asked.

"Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott," said Ron thickly.

"And Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw,' said Hermione.

Michael narrowed his eyes. "Malfoy?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, he's a Slytherin. We're all in Gryffindor by the way. Why, do you know him?"

"No, just heard the name a long time ago," Michael muttered.

Another silence crept into the room.

After a few agonising minutes in which Ron had finished three Chocolate Frogs and was opening another, Ginny decided to break the silence. "So why are you only coming to Hogwarts now, Michael? Why not when you were eleven?"

Michael closed his book. "I used to be tutored at home, by my mother's friend. My family didn't believe in wand magic. They thought it was silly.

"What?" Harry was surprised. He thought there was only wand magic. "What magic do you use, then?

"Well." Michael seemed to think about his answer, as if deciding to tell the truth or a lie. "I'm from an old Druid family, so we use a little of the Old Religion magic. It's very dangerous though and I can only do a few spells. But I do know wand magic. I taught myself."

Hermione was listening intently. "The Old Religion? That's the sort of magic Merlin used! What spells can you do?"

Michael looked amused. "Well this is the easiest." He held out his palm and whispered, "Forbearnan." His eyes flashed gold and a flame appeared in his outstretched hand.

"Merlin's beard!" Ron exclaimed. Michael jumped. "You did that without a wand!"

Michael looked embarrassed. "Well-"

Suddenly the compartment doors flew open. Draco Malfoy and his cronies stood outside the door. Michael quickly extinguished the flame.

"What?" Harry said aggressively, before Malfoy could open his mouth.

"Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention," drawled Malfoy, whose sleek blond hair and pointed chin were just like his father's. "You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments."

"Yeah," said Harry, "but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone."

Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Michael laughed. Malfoy's lip curled.

"Tell me, how does it feel being second-best to Weasley, Potter?" he asked.

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Hermione sharply

"I seem to have touched a nerve," said Malfoy, smirking. "Well, just watch yourself, Potter, because I'll be dogging your footsteps in case you step out of line."

"Get out!" said Hermione, standing up.

Sniggering, Malfoy gave Harry a last malicious look and departed, with Crabbe and Goyle lumbering along in his wake. Hermione slammed the compartment door behind them and turned to look at Harry, who knew at once that she, like him, had registered what Malfoy had said and been just as unnerved by it.

Michael looked confused. "What's wrong?" he asked, looking at Harry and Hermione's worried faces.

They exchanged glances once again. "Oh, it's nothing." Michael narrowed his eyes but seemed to dismiss the idea of anything bad happening.

The train whistled. "Oh look," Hermione said. "We need to get changed into our robes."

They swiftly got changed and began walking down the aisle as the train began to slow.

Ron and Hermione went off to do their prefect duties and the rest of them tried to find a carriage.

When an empty carriage finally drove up, Harry gave a start of surprise. The carriages were being pulled by some weird creatures, snorting and thumping their hooves on the ground. "What are those?" Harry asked

Ginny frowned. "What? There's nothing," she said as she looked to where Harry was pointing.

Michael, however, looked as though he could see them. "They're Thestrals!" He stared at them in awe. "I've never seen them tamed before!"

Ginny looked confused. "I'm pretty sure there's nothing there..."

Michael sighed. "You can only see them if you've seen death."

Harry grimaced. "You've seen someone die?"

Michael smiled ruefully. "Yep. My father died in my arms. He used to... train dragons. One day he had an accident while trying to save me." A tear escaped from Michael's eye, but he quickly wiped it away. He leapt up onto the carriage, Harry and Ginny following, after exchanging glances.

thanks for reading! Please review.


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